


Not a Young Woman Anymore

by DiscipleOfBrad



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Birthday, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff, Gifts, Party, Presents, The Doctor’s a softie, Unspoken Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-27
Updated: 2020-04-27
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:55:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23871976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DiscipleOfBrad/pseuds/DiscipleOfBrad
Summary: The Doctor wants to surprise Clara for her birthday and calls in the help of a host of familiar faces to do so
Relationships: Twelfth Doctor/Clara Oswin Oswald
Comments: 6
Kudos: 30





	Not a Young Woman Anymore

**Author's Note:**

> A new story to celebrate Jenna’s birthday! Hope you enjoy

Clara Oswald glanced around the empty classroom with a tired, albeit satisfied, smile, packing away her pens and picking up the stray pieces of paper that littered the floor. Teaching was always a tiring job, especially when she had year 11 for two hours. But it was also a rewarding one and, more often than not, she was able to travel back to her apartment happy about what she had accomplished during the day. The only issue was that she couldn’t concentrate properly this day because it was a special occasion. Celebrating her birthday hadn’t really been a major thing in her life. She remembered small parties where her primary school classmates would all dress up as fairy tale characters or pirates and play silly games until the parents whose job it was to look after the rowdy bunch of children got too sick and tired of the noise. She didn't like being the centre of attention though and much preferred to have small gatherings with her family, having a laugh and sharing a homemade cake which always had just a bit too much frosting on. 

But then her mother had passed on and her family had slowly begun to drift apart. The birthday celebrations became even more muted and infrequent before they simply stopped all together. She still got cards and presents from them all. Her dad would always send something that  _ Linda _ had picked out, usually a new top to say that whatever clothes she already had weren’t at all good enough. Her gran would send over her favourite biscuits, somehow still warm, with the same card she got every year. If Clara was honest to herself, she probably enjoyed the quiet time she spent on her own more, catching up on the books she still had to read or the box sets that were still on her planner. Nothing special but...cosy. When the rest of her life went at a whirlwind pace, thanks to a certain roguish grey haired Time Lord, it was nice to slow down at times and take stock of the year that had flown by. 

No one would believe her if she told them what her year had actually been like, away from the marking and the playground duty. They’d balk at her if she mentioned how she had jumped out of a tower window in the arms of Robin Hood. They’d send her to an insane asylum if she recalled the time she had fought a mummy on the Orient Express. In space. She’d be given a fitting for a straight jacket if she brought up her run in with Santa Claus of all people. She wondered which therapist she’d be booked in with if she sat them down and went into detail about outwitting ghosts on an underwater base. When she looked back on all the adventures she had had, she couldn’t help but realise how entirely bonkers her life was. It made her birthday a rather special day, as if she were not just celebrating the life she’d had so far but what also awaited her on the horizon.

That wasn’t to say that her birthday wasn’t also a sad time for her. Because it truly was. Even if Danny (or, at least, the version of Danny in her dreams) had told her to move on, sparing him five minutes a day, the lack of celebrations with him by her side would always bring his death to the forefront of her mind. She couldn’t help it. That was the sort of person she was. She couldn’t move on as easily as the Doctor, even if she thought he was lying when he said he didn't think about any of his losses. She had seen them affect him in different ways, making her know for sure that they weren’t as dissimilar as he claimed. That was the one downside of being alone on this day of all days. It heightened the sense that she didn't have anyone around her from what constituted as her normal life. Even those from her time travelling life wouldn’t be there. The Doctor, despite his title and reassurances that he could, in fact, use a calendar, was rubbish at keeping dates. He wouldn’t remember that it was her birthday because she didn't make a big deal about it. And why should he? He had far bigger things to worry about, such as saving planets and defeating every bad guy under the sun, to focus on the trivial matter of her becoming a year older. She didn't love him any less for it. It was actually endearing how he was such a buffoon and a clown when he tried so hard not to be.

She walked out of the school building, slinging her bag over her shoulder. Her motorcycle was in the garage having its mandated service so she was planning on walking home. Thankfully the sun was out for a change. Some of her colleagues had wished her a happy birthday as she left, having shown her the card they had all signed for her earlier in the day. She’d been rather concerned when Courtney Woods had told her to have a nice day too, worrying about what sort of prank she was pulling. As she moved away from the rule breaking student, Clara didn't notice her furiously typing away on her phone to send off the necessary text message. Putting the strange encounter to the back of her mind, she turned around the corner down the road, stopping abruptly as she noticed a familiar blue box standing at the entrance of the local park she liked to cut through. What was he up to? There had better not be another alien to deal with in the local vicinity. But why else would he be here? It wasn’t a Wednesday, the usual time they went on their little adventures. For a brief moment, she got it into her head that he had remembered what day it was before realising that, if he had, he would have met her at her apartment and not some random street he didn't know she walked down. 

Giving into her curiosity, even knowing that it would probably mean her quiet night-in wouldn’t come to fruition, she hurriedly rushed over to the Tardis, a large grin plastered on her face. She really shouldn’t have been this excited just to see him because it always meant them getting into a spot of bother (more accurately described as life-threatening danger). But he was her life now. It dawned on her how important he had truly become to her, the central thing her life revolved around. He had no clue either, which made her want to laugh and cry at the same time. She was about to open the doors when he popped out just as she got there. If she had been properly paying attention, she would have picked up on how convenient that was or how he didn't seem at all surprised to see her or how he was discreetly tucking away a mobile phone into his jacket pocket. All she picked up on was the massive smile on his face as he saw her, probably the greatest gift she could get.

“Clara!” he said loudly, wrapping an arm around her in an uncharacteristic show of affection as he led her into the Tardis. She didn't even think about protesting. “What a pleasant surprise, seeing you here!” He was acting strange. Stranger than usual, that was. She just couldn’t figure out why.

“Doctor,” she greeted, elongating his name as she eyed him suspiciously. “What are you doing here?”

“Why can’t I be here? I have a time and space ship. I can go wherever I want.” He was avoiding her question, which made her even more curious. He moved towards the console, hoping the distraction would help him not blurt out the truth. Those eyes were too powerful. No wonder she always got what she wanted.

“Because this is too...normal for you. There isn’t anything remotely spacey going on here. Right? You’d tell me if something is happening, wouldn’t you?”

“There is nothing... _ spacey _ going on, no.” He rolled his eyes at her less than eloquent terminology. He thought about getting her an encyclopedia but knew that it would end being thrown directly back at him. He scrutinised her, realising that she wasn’t going to give up, and let out a long sigh. “If you must know...I thought I’d pick you up from work.”

“Why?”

“...I was...bored. This gives me something to do.” She hadn’t been expecting that response, which made her even more doubtful that that was the actual reason. “I’m your taxi service! There you go - new nickname.” She patted him on the cheek with a small smile.

“Don’t worry. I already saw you as that. I’ll get you one of those chauffeur hats.” She smiled even more when he sent a withering glare her way. Sliding her hand down, she grasped his hand, keeping it on the console. He was trapped. She wasn’t born yesterday. She knew him and knew that he was never nice just because he could be. And now there was no chance of him running off before she could properly interrogate him. “But...I still think that you’re keeping something from me.”

“When have I ever kept something from you?”

“Oh, I don’t know...Missy actually being alive even after we saw her get shot?” He grimaced, knowing she had him there. He couldn’t let her have the upper hand.

“That’s not fair. I couldn’t possibly know for sure that she had survived. What would be the point in making you worry over nothing?”

“Tell...me. Or I will take your guitar off you.” It was a risk. If she did that, she would have to put up with him moping about the ship for the rest of the day and she didn't reckon that she could put up with that. His eyes widened before he composed himself, slowly dragging a hand through her hair tenderly. The intimate action stunned Clara and the Doctor used her momentary shock to slip away, hurrying up the steps to get to the relative safety of the balcony. She let out an annoyed growl, more annoyed at herself for falling for the trick. How could the man who barely had any knowledge on human emotions use them so effectively to his advantage? 

“Come on, Clara,” he said, leaning on the rails with a smirk. She couldn’t be mad with him. “Where do you want to go? I’ve got a load of ideas but I’ll let you decide for once. You better make a good decision or you won’t get this privilege again. Understand?”

“Somewhere...relaxing for a change. I’m not really in the mood for running or hiding or being locked up in chains. Somewhere quiet that doesn’t need saving.” He’d been looking for that very place throughout the entirety of his life but everywhere he went always tended to go pear-shaped as soon as he arrived. And he hated pears.

“So...somewhere boring.”

“Hey!”

“But you’re the least boring person I know! It’s not very...you.” She actually blushed at that, hearing how highly he thought of her. He very rarely admitted such sentiments and it made a nice change. As he moved behind one of the grey pillars, the phone in his pocket buzzed and he nonchalantly looked at it. It was the message he had been waiting for, meaning that he didn't have to stall for much longer. “You know what? I acquiesce to your demands. Somewhere extremely dull. Nothing exciting at all.” He grinned as he moved back to the controls, pulling down the lever to prompt the Tardis to emit its familiar groaning noise as it took off. Again, if she had been paying attention, she would have noticed that he hadn’t needed to put any coordinates in.

As the ship landed with a heavy thud, Clara surprised by how short the trip had been, she was about to step out when the Doctor stopped her. She gazed up at him with a slight frown. He was being especially touchy-feely today. She wasn’t going to bring it up, not wanting to scare him off. He had been making good progress ever since their Christmas adventure and she didn't want it to stop. 

“Clara...I need you to trust me,” he murmured.

“I do. I completely trust you. You should know that by now after everything we’ve been through.” It should have concerned him how willing she was to say that but it just made him feel...happy. “But why?” He produced a small piece of cloth from his pocket in a dramatic flurry.

“I need to...blindfold you.” This was the part he hadn’t been looking forward to since he knew she would take it the wrong way. She arched an eyebrow at him. Oh, she loved it when she was presented with an opportunity to tease him.

“My, my, Doctor,” she sang. “How very forward of you. At least buy me a drink first.”

“I have bought you a drink before! Coffee!”

“I paid for that!”

“That’s...not the point. This doesn’t have anything to do with...that! It’s just that...the place I’ve taken you is very...bright. Just trying to save your eyesight,” he finished lamely. “Wouldn’t want to subject you to a life where you couldn’t see this dashing face.”

“What about your eyes? Won’t you be blinded too?” Ah. He hadn’t though of that. He needed to think on his feet. Fast.

“Um...superior Time Lord biology.” She scrutinised his face, trying to figure out whether he was lying. He was. But it was just easier to give in to his strange behaviour rather than constantly probe him for answers. That could go on for hours and she didn't want to have to threaten him with bodily harm.

“Fine. Just be gentle.” And he was. Clara was pleasantly surprised by how tender he was as he placed the material over her eyes, making sure that it wasn’t too tight. He then carefully led her out of the Tardis, where she was confused by the unexpected wooden floor that appeared under her feet. She wanted to look at the Doctor before realising that she couldn’t. He was slightly impressed by what he saw as he took a sneak around the corner although he hadn’t expected much. He got a thumbs up from the woman in charge and he nervously undid the blindfold. It took Clara a little while for her eyes to adjust to the light before she took it all in. Her apartment had been transformed, decorations covering the wall. Bunting hung from the ceiling and she was sure that it matched the colours of a certain scarf she knew he had sported back in the day. There was also a pile of presents on the small dining table, something she hadn’t anticipated getting today, especially a stack that large. She was too transfixed by the unexpected decour to process who was there too. All she did was look up at the Doctor, who was biting his lip in an agitated fashion. She couldn’t quite fathom that he had done this behind her back. No wonder he had been acting so strange.

“Did you do this?” she asked in disbelief.

“Well, the general idea was mine,” he admitted with a small voice. “I left the decorating to Kate and Osgood.” The two women waved at her with large smiles, both wearing party hats. Clara couldn’t remember a time that the UNIT director had looked so casual and carefree. Perkins stood on a chair as he finished hanging the lights, giving her a nod of the head in greeting whilst he focused.

“When he told me to gather all of UNIT’s resources immediately, I thought that the planet was on the brink of invasion,” Kate explained with a good-natured roll of her eyes. “I’ve had soldiers in here since you left this morning putting up decorations and getting everything ready.”

“And when he visited me, telling me he desperately needed an engineer,” Perkins said, wiping his hands on a dirty handkerchief. “I expected something more difficult than simple fairy lights. I haven’t seen something so technologically basic in a long time.” He stretched his hand out to shake hers but she trapped him in a hug instead. It was so good to see him again, so long since their adventure on the Orient. 

“I chose the colour scheme,” Osgood added proudly. “As you can tell, I don’t actually know you that well so I realised that it was safer to base it on our favourite time traveller.”

“Marty McFly is here?” She laughed at the Doctor’s frustrated glare, remembering the time she had forced him to watch it with her one evening. He had complained about the paradoxes being too large and how it was totally irresponsible what they were doing. She had gently reminded him that he was in no position to talk. “I can’t believe you did this.”

“Why not?”

“Because...it’s not very you. You’re normally the grumpy Scotsman who has no emotions.”

“I’m much more of a complex character than that, Clara. I’m multi-dimensional.”

“I know but...still...I didn't even expect you to remember what today is.” He looked at her sadly as she said it, feeling a lot of guilt at her words. How badly had he treated her if she thought he was capable of forgetting anything about her.

“Of course I did. How could I possibly miss the most important day of the year?”

“Now, that was smooth,” Osgood commended.

“I’ve been teaching him,” Kate told them. “He asked for lessons. Alien attacks I can deal with. Helping him be more polite was my greatest challenge.”

“You are full of surprises,” Clara whispered as she wrapped him in a tight hug, enjoying the fact that his arms were around her more quickly than usual. 

“This isn’t even the main bit,” he said, gesturing to the table. She hadn’t taken in who was actually sitting there. Jane Austen was busy playing cards with Charles Dickens, who appeared to be struggling against his female opponent. Robin Hood had his foot on the chair as he examined the television remote with mild curiosity. He placed it back down when he saw her, letting out a loud bark of laughter and running over to pick her up and swing her around. The Doctor quietly bristled but didn't complain when he heard the light giggle coming from her.

“We’re here to make sure you have the grandest of days, Miss Oswald!” Robin said when he placed her down. “You can not even begin to contemplate how shocked I was when this impossibly thin man appeared in his box once again in my own forest.”

“It is not your forest!” the Doctor moaned. “It’s public property that you took for yourself.”

“A noble operation deserves a proper base.”

“He’s just annoyed because I was so happy to see you. He gets incredibly jealous sometimes,” she noted. 

“I do not!”

“You have incredible taste in men. But I do not think I could compete against him when it comes to winning your favour.” A blush coloured her cheeks and she wasn’t willing to look at him, mainly because of the scrutinising look he was giving her. Wanting to quickly change the topic before her embarrassment became too much, she walked over to greet the two writers. Charles let out a tired sigh, slamming his cards down frustratedly.

“I have never known someone be able to best me so regularly,” he moaned before he stood up and shook Clara’s hand. “You must be the famous Miss Oswald.”

“I don’t know about famous…”

“Well, he certainly talked about you a lot during our travels. From what I could hear when I wasn’t trying to process the baffling conundrum that is his ship. Or attempting to comprehend the fact that the Doctor I knew, a blunt man with a strange taste in clothes, has been replaced with...this.” 

“Someone with an even stranger taste in clothes?”

“Precisely, my dear!”

“Hey! Surely that isn’t as preposterous as those ghosts we fought against. Or gas-based creatures to be more precise,” the Doctor said. He glanced back at her as he tried to figure out whether she was happy with this surprise. “I thought this would be a nice treat. Since you like...books. And these are your favourite writers.”

“Jane is much more than a writer to me,” she responded with a wink.

“You never fail to make me blush,” the other woman responded as they shared a warm hug. “It is good to see you again, Clara. To be truthful, I have been receiving letters from him for quite some time. He was constantly checking that I was still available.”

“Same here,” Charles concurred. “I tried to explain that I would put anything in my diary on hold for him if he needed me but it wasn’t enough to assuage his worries.”

“How come he just told me to get in his magical blue box without any prior warning then?” Robin asked, perplexed.

“Because I didn't care whether you could come or not,” he pointed out with a sarcastic grin.

“Don’t be mean, Doctor,” Clara lightly chastised him, even if she was still sporting a massive grin. It was the most she had smiled in a long time. 

“You can see how much difficulty I’ve had,” Kate chimed in, much to his annoyance.

“You really have been planning this for a long time, haven’t you?”

“I...wanted it to be perfect for you.”

“I would have been happy with just us two having a movie night with some popcorn.”

“So I can send these lot away?” He was already moving back to the Tardis before she grabbed his arm.

“No! We’re going to have the best party ever. I’m just wondering how you pulled this all together.”

“It wasn’t too much hassle. I figured out what route you take when you have to walk home so I could intercept you. Didn't want you getting here before everything was ready.” 

“But you wouldn’t have known that I was walking. I usually take my...motorcycle.”

“Yes. And who do you think convinced the garage to fit in an extra fix-up?”

“You sneaky little…” He stopped her before she could finish, fearing what rude phrase she was going to use.

“The last thing I had to sort out was knowing when you were leaving Coal Hill. So I deployed Disruptive Influence.” 

“Chloe? How did you get her in on this?”

“All she had to do was message me when she saw you. I told her you would give her an A for the year as a reward.”

“Doctor!” It was if the universe had decided to save him when a small bang resonated from the kitchen. Her eyes went wide at the noise and he gave her another nervous look, this time because he didn't know what happened. He just knew who would have caused it. They went to investigate, being met with the sight of Strax, the disgraced Sontaran soldier who was now employed as a Victorian butler, covered in flour as Vastra and Jenny, Strax’s employers, looked on in amusement. Their expressions changed when they saw Clara examining the state the room was in.

“Ah! You’ve arrived!” Strax shouted gleefully, not commenting on the obvious mess. “It is good to be punctual, especially in a time of war.”

“We’re not going to war, Strax,” Jenny gently reminded him as if he was a confused child.

“That’s what you think. It could sneak up on all of us at any time. It is best to be vigilant.”

“What...was the noise?” Clara asked, putting her happiness at seeing them to one side until she could safely say that her apartment wasn’t about to collapse around them. “There was a bang.”

“I’m sorry about that,” Vastra said. “It’s nothing to worry about. Strax just got overly excited.”

“The metal box tried to surprise me with a popping noise. I viewed it as an enemy and an immediate threat to all of our well beings so I had it promptly...destroyed.” He clenched his fist as he finished and that was when Clara noticed the steaming pile of molten metal on the worktop that had once been her toaster. She couldn’t form any words, remembering how much it had cost. She nudged the Doctor.

“You can get me a new one after this,” she told him. It wasn’t a request. It was a direct order and one he wasn’t willing to challenge her on.

“Yes, ma’am,” he responded. “I think I’ve got a few lying around the Tardis. I’m sure if I look hard enough I’ll be able to find one that suits you.” She was curious as to what toaster he thought would match her style but it wasn’t what she was looking for.

“No. You can buy me one. We’ll go shopping.” Her eyes lit up at the prospect of taking him around Ikea. 

“I...don’t have any money.”

“Then you best start earning your keep,” she replied with a wink, prompting him to wonder what that entailed. Before he could ask, she was moving further into the kitchen, smelling something cooking. She tried peering into the oven only for the married couple to block her view. “What’s going on in here?”

“You don’t need to know just yet, do ya?” Jenny said evasively.

“Although I do normally not find elements of surprise to be tactically advantageous,” Strax piped up, “This one shall be pleasant indeed.” The way he said it made her worry about how bad this could go. She couldn’t figure out whether she was more anxious about that or the fact that, every time he moved, more flour ended up on the floor. She was already planning what specialist equipment she would use to get it out of the grouting. Before Clara could become even more tense, the Doctor led her back to the fun and games in the living room of her apartment, glaring at the trio to make them realise that there better be no more distractions.

Her mind was soon taken away from her fears as they started playing party games that she had no clue as to how the Doctor actually knew about them. He’d been slightly nervous about joining in with musical statues, claiming that he had had enough run-ins with the Weeping Angels without becoming one. 

“After all,” he had said, “whatever holds the image of an angel, becomes an angel.” 

Thankfully, none of them had been transformed into monstrous creatures as far as they could tell. Most of the guests were perplexed by the music being used, never having heard such raucous nonsense. Clara had been most enthralled by the Doctor’s attempts to  _ dance _ along with the tunes, mainly resorting to swaying aimlessly about until she had taken his arms and proceeded to spin him around the room. He grumbled that she was the reason why he had lost the game as Strax was presented with a small trophy (the Sontaran had explained that his stealth training had helped him perfect the art of staying perfectly still) but the smile on his face told her that he truly didn't care. 

The penny had dropped when they started playing pass the parcel. She realised that the Doctor had thrown her a child’s birthday party rather than the distinguished one of a professional adult. Clara had brought this up through fits of laughter and he had responded by telling her that she seemed to be thoroughly enjoying it regardless. And she was. It was surreal and crazy and mind-blowingly bonkers but...it perfectly summed up her life. And she was loving it. Charles was regaling them with wondrous stories, making the tales come alive only with words, as the mystery present went around them. Well, she had been enjoying it until, when one layer of wrapping was opened, they could all hear an unmistakable beeping. The Doctor nervously had asked Strax what he had wrapped up, avoiding Clara’s annoyed glare at the fact he had entrusted him of all people to do it.

“What else would I disguise other than a bomb?” he’d answered with a smile. “It’s such a glorious game. Sontaran Roulette, I’ve called it. Who has the might to take it on?” He’d been shunned to the corner of the room for the next half an hour as a result as the Doctor and Perkins frantically worked to defuse it. Thankfully, as it would have likely ruined her birthday, they managed to do it just in time. 

After that excitement, the jovial mood had promptly returned. Jane and Charles both took it in turns to put on small shows, making the others dress up in absurd costumes that the Doctor had found in the extensive Tardis wardrobes. Clara had been surprised at how readily he was willing to join in before he explained to her that he had taught every great actor the secrets of the craft. She had wanted to ask more about that but she’d been roped into playing Oliver Twist and had forgotten all about it. 

He’d been less enthusiastic to dance along as Robin produced a flute but she’d used her special power of pouting and enlarging her eyes, meaning he’d had no choice but to relent. All of them danced together with reckless abandon, Kate surprisingly showing off some rather silky moves, swapping partners as they linked arms and made fools of themselves. She’d never been so care free and thought the same went for the Doctor too. Then came the moment she had been most looking forward to although she wouldn’t openly admit it for fear of sounding rude: the presents! Perkins, having not known her very well, gave her a futuristic-looking camera which he explained had a memory that would never be filled. She thanked him profusely, saying it would be perfect to take on her travels. Her eyes had gone insanely wide as the two authors gave her first editions of their rarest of books, her English-loving brain going into overdrive. Charles had been forced to act quickly when she almost fainted in shock, keeping her upright. Robin offered her his very own cap, stating that he had another and he wanted her to torment the Doctor with his memory for eternity with it. She liked the sound of spending such a long time with her Time Lord. Kate and Osgood gave her the funniest gift, a collection of photos of the Doctor’s UNIT IDs since he started working with them. How could he never take one without his eyes being closed or him sneezing part way through? With Strax telling her that his present would come later, Vastra and Jenny presented her with a long box. She tentatively opened it to reveal an exquisite red dress. It was a lengthy thing and extraordinarily wide but not nearly as wide as the Doctor’s eyes when he saw it. It looked exactly like the one her echo had worn when he first laid eyes on her, fighting Snowmen and the Great Intelligence. The two of them gave him an innocent look as he slightly glared at them without Clara noticing. She was too busy observing the luxurious patterns and the feel of it in her hands. He would be lying if he didn't admit that he was excited to see her wear it, whenever that might be. He’d have to thank them later for the gift even if they’d be incredibly smug about it.

As his mind drifted, he failed to notice Clara and everyone else looking expectantly at him. She was forced to nudge him gently to break him from his thoughts. He realised what was now expected of him. He was especially worried about this. She had been given some wonderful presents already and he now wished he had gotten her something more extravagant. Regardless, he handed it over to her, Clara surprised at how heavy it was. With an arched eyebrow, she unwrapped it, her confusion only greatened when she saw it was a large book. 

“Open it,” he instructed quietly, not able to look at her. As she turned the first page, she realised what it was. Her hand shot to her mouth as tears brimmed in her eyes. It was a photo album. Specifically, a photo album of their adventures together. Some were of just her, some just of him, others of the two of them bouncing off one another. There she was meeting him after his first adventure in that body in Victorian England. One of her in a red dress, the time she had met her favourite fictional hero. The bank heist. Oh, she loved that golden dress she’d chosen for their supposedly ‘last hurrah’. Her in that nightie on Christmas. There was even one of the Doctor with Captain Zhukov and Professor Grisenko from the Russian submarine they’d accidentally landed on.

“How...did you do this?” she asked, words almost failing her.

“Well, those ones were slightly tricky. I had to search them down, politely ask for a photo without them asking who I was, and then running away.” She let out a chuckle, still transfixed by all the memories. “As for the others...just accept that the Tardis is an amazing ship and is capable of many wonderful things.”

“That she is.”

“Do...do you like it?” She looked up at him and he was concerned about the tears staining her cheeks.

“What a stupid question. I absolutely love it. It is the greatest thing anyone has ever given me. And I will cherish it for the rest of my life.” She attacked him with another hug, kissing him on the cheek. She’d done it before but it was still a new level to their relationship. He was surprised at how warm his cheek felt afterwards where her lips had landed.

“You’ll notice that there's plenty of blank pages left…” Oh, she adored that nervous smile he was giving her as if he was concerned that she’d one day not want to travel with him. She was never going to have those thoughts again.

“There aren’t enough pages in the universe to cover the number of adventures we’re going to go on together. And that’s a guarantee, mister.” It was like, for a split second, no one else was in the room as they just giddily smiled at each other, thinking about all the time they would be able to spend together exploring, running, defying the odds.

Then they were brought back to reality as the lights dimmed. All they could see was the ethereal glow of a collection of candles slowly coming towards them as Strax cautiously carried a cake. She could have laughed when she saw it, a chocolate sponge with white icing, blue fondant icing spelling out “Happy Birthday, Boy”. The Sontaran had never been good at properly identifying her gender. She loved it all the same. As she blew out the candles, they all started to sing Happy Birthday to her, the most excruciating thing to go through on planet Earth as she never knew how to react. She offered to help slice and dish out the cake to everyone but the Doctor had promptly shoved her back down on the sofa as he asked the Paternoster Gang to deal with it. 

He did allow her to get up when a knock at the door came, giving her a mischievous look. Intrigued, she walked up to the door and opened it to find a rather large man. He was slightly balding with small, round spectacles hanging precariously on the end of his nose and a lit cigar perched in the corner of his mouth. She would have found him strange and intimidating if it wasn’t for the eyes that were carrying a good-natured mirth. She had the strange sense that she knew him from somewhere even though she knew for a fact that she didn't actually know him. 

“Ah, Winston! Is it ready?” the Doctor asked as he came up behind her. Her eyes were saucers as the pieces of the puzzle came together. 

“Of course it is! You gave us a strict time limit to figure it all out. I think you will be suitably impressed,” Britain’s most famous Prime Minister answered.

“You brought Winston Churchill to my birthday party?” Clara asked, almost a screech.

“Obviously. He’s right in front of you. Sometimes, Clara, you do ask the most nonsensical questions.”

“You’ve allowed Winston Churchill to roam the streets, unsupervised, when he’s supposed to be dead? The newspapers will have a field day!”

“He’s not roaming the streets! He’s standing in your apartment block and, now I think about it, you haven’t said he can come in. Did nobody ever teach you any manners?” With her mind still processing this development, she moved aside, Churchill obligingly entering the room.

“Is this the girl then?” he asked.

“Indeed. She’s normally a lot sharper than this, though.” He got hit on the arm for his comment.

“You were right. She truly is a gorgeous woman. No wonder you’ve gone to such lengths to treat her.” Both of their eyes went wide, something that was happening a lot, blushes colouring their cheeks. She was still smiling.

“What did you say to him?” she queried, just wanting to know if he would say it again.

“Um...nothing! Forget that he ever said anything.”

“Don’t be so preposterous,” Winston carried on, much to the Doctor’s annoyance. “Miss Oswald, he was waxing lyrical about you for what felt like hours! I had to agree to this just to shut him up!”

“Right,” the Doctor interrupted. “We should...go to the window...for the last surprise. Before I kill you and destroy the time lines.” Winston chortled at his comment, slapping him on the back. Clara linked her arm in his and they moved to where he had suggested.

“Gorgeous, hmm? I didn't think you noticed such things. Time Lord superiority and all that,” she commented.

“You’re never going to let me forget this are you?”

“Nope.” Everyone stepped onto the balcony, the two of them at the front. She could make out a faint rumble in the distance. Engines. Before she could ponder what was coming, a pair of Spitfires flew into view, tumbling around and spinning in the air, putting on a show as they’d been instructed. Smoke was coming out of the back of them and Clara wondered why no one else was concerned. But she soon realised that their flight path had been orchestrated and meticulously planned. The smoke settled in the air, spelling out the phrase “For the most impossible of girls.” They all gasped at the show, Clara covering her mouth as tears once again made themselves known. She leaned her head on the Doctor’s shoulder, a soft smile dancing on her lips.

“That was...astonishing. But...won’t people notice two World War Two planes flying about?”

“Don’t be silly. You humans never pay attention or just explain things away. They’ll think it was some recreational...historical...thing.” She didn't seem too convinced. “But, yes, I know. It is astonishing. Those planes aren’t designed to do all that. I had to work hard on making sure they could. Perkins helped.” The man in question doffed his cap.

“No. I mean. All of this. This party. It’s been amazing. I think it’s the best one I’ve ever had. No. I know it is. Thank you so very much, Doctor.”

“You’re very welcome, Clara. You deserve the best after all. And it’s not over yet. We’ve still got plenty of hours to spend before they need to go back to their original times.” She glanced at everyone and then into her apartment.

“Excellent. And once it’s all over, you can do one thing for me. Something very...special.” His lips went dry as he tried to figure out what she meant.

“And...what would that be?” he asked nervously.

“You can clean up! It’s going to be a right tip in there and it’s my birthday after all. Or are you forgetting that you’re the caretaker?” He’d been caught out and she was so smug with herself. He grumbled and led her back to the party, willing to do anything for the birthday girl.


End file.
